


In the Hall of the Mountain King

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, F/M, Mention of Past Abuse, fantastical elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: In the distant land of Gallifrey, far up on the highest mountain lives a desperate race locked in a curse for all eternity, but the winds of change are blowing and not everything is as it seems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Thinky for helping me with the original idea oh so long ago and to CSV for graciously putting up with me flailing random fic thoughts at her. And thank you ever so much to Fleur for not complaining about fifteen messages in a row, kindly reading each chapter, helping me when I was stuck, and asking all the questions I forgot about - this fic would *not* be a thing without her.
> 
> This story is complete and will be posted a chapter a day barring any unforeseen events that involve the country across the Bering Sea from my current state.
> 
> This is based on a short piece in a different one of my stories, expanded and updated for this modern world.
> 
> Comments and Reviews make my world go round.

The wind coming from the north brought the bitter promise of winter as it howled its way down the narrow pass. It was a treacherous crossing even in the best of times and the clouds obscuring the moon meant that it was doubly so that night. 

Rose tugged her thin cloak further around herself as she struggled along the path. Faintly she could hear the howls of the creatures of the night, but she could not afford to worry about them at the moment. The mountain fell away to both sides, meaning certain death if she strayed even a little from the way. She held back the whimpers that threatened to escape as her feet were battered by the unforgiving rocks and tree branches that whipped at her face - her clothes were threadbare enough without the constant assault of nature. 

She had just gained the downward slope when her ears caught a different sort of sound - a horn that signaled far more danger than any she had yet encountered. Pausing, she listened with her whole being and judged that the sound was coming from behind her which meant that even if she had anything to turn back to, she couldn't. There was no way to go but forward. 

Her footsteps picked up as she made her way on, but the darkness and the sharp incline of the path kept her from reaching full speed and she hadn't even made it to solid ground before the pounding of footsteps behind her drew level with her and in a moment she was boxed in.

They were the Mountain King's patrolmen and the rumors of them were fraught with blood, danger, and mystery. Looking at them, Rose could well believe the stories - they hardly looked human anymore, weighed down by the curse they bore. 

"What are you doing in the King's Forest?" one of them spoke. "You know it is forbidden to all but the wild ones."

For a moment she thought of trying to make a run for it, but she knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill her rather than let her leave. 

"I was lost," she said, somewhat truthfully. "I was trying to make it back to the ground."

"I almost believe you," the same one spoke again and Rose guessed him to be the leader. "However it is not my call."

Before she had a chance to protest, Rose found herself swept up on the back of the closest one and the whole group was moving back up the mountain. They were not quite running and not quite flying and it was all Rose could do to hold on. Shutting her eyes against the biting wind, Rose tried not to worry about what the night was likely to bring.

The stories of the Mountain People were told around campfires and in the dead of night. Stories of how they had once been the most powerful race of men in Gallifrey - their riches and unusually long life the envy of all. But the power had gone to their head and led by their king, they had begun to behave recklessly, abandoning the laws that dictated right and wrong. Their actions had gained the attention of the most powerful Sorceress in Gallifrey (though the stories of what, exactly, they had done to gain her attention were as varied as the folks who told them) and she had cast on them a terrible curse. The longer that they refused to give up their ways, they would lose more of their human characteristics until eventually they would be indistinct from their animal counterparts.

It was all too soon when their progress halted and Rose opened her eyes to see the walled city rising up before her. She gaped at the sheer magnificence - the way it was built into the side of the mountain itself, nearly impossible to tell where the buildings began and nature ended. Creeping vines and moss meandered around the grey stone, the turrets meshed with the craggy rocks, and a dangerous waterfall splashed against the ornate arches.

A flurry of motion caught her attention the moment they passed through the castle gates - the sounds of a busy village life though the inhabitants hardly resembled the folks in the valley. She knew the stories but the sight that met her eyes still took her by surprise. A man with wings was chatting with a woman with long feathers, a farmer covered in dark fur was doing business with another with a rapidly swishing tail - she hardly knew what to focus on first. 

The patrolmen moved swiftly, scattering the villagers in all directions - it was obvious they were as feared within their borders as they were without. As they made their way through, Rose slowly became aware that a crowd was gathering behind them and none of the patrolmen's glares was doing anything to dissuade the assembly. It took her a moment to realize that it was because her completely human appearance was a novelty. The path wound its way slowly upwards passing all manner of people and buildings until at length it ended at the very top of the mountain. Before them stretched a plain stone building - its smooth walls reflecting the light of the rising dawn. 

Never pausing, the patrolmen strode in, leaving the doors open so that the crowd could follow and be witnesses. The hall itself was long and narrow with gracefully sloped ceilings ending in a point far above their heads. It was empty save for a man seated on an ornate throne. Rose had merely a glimpse of his face, drawn and tired before she was thrown roughly to the ground - hitting hard and unable to hold back a cry of pain. 

She listened as the same man who had spoken earlier explained where and how they had found her and then stepped back, arms crossed and smug grin on his face. When he had finished, there was complete silence, even the villagers seemed to hold their breath. It stretched on for so long that Rose lifted her head and looked again at the man on the throne.

He sat as if he were a part of the decoration and there was something different about him, but she could not quite put her finger on what it was. His features were vaguely pleasing though not in the way she used to gossip with her friends about. It was his eyes that caught her attention the most, they were an unusual shade of blue and she could feel them resting on her as if they were an actual weight. She shivered violently, the night's journey and the stone floor catching up with her. The rest of his body never moved, but his eyes seemed to soften for just a moment before they hardened and he raised them to survey his people.

Rose expected no mercy and it was apparent from the bearing of the patrolmen that they were of the same mind. Trespassing in the Mountain carried a harsh sentence and it would have been carried out if she had been caught by the Valley People as well. Down there it would have been hard labor or something similar, up here they had a different idea of justice and she feared the worst.

"What brings you to my land?" the King asked at last, his accent typical of his people.

"I was passing through, sire, looking for freedom," Rose explained, determined to stick to the truth as much as she could.

"Freedom? In the land of the Mountain People?" There was derision in his tone and Rose couldn't help reacting to it.

"Well I didn't intend to stay here - the swiftest route was the mountain pass," she retorted, sitting up and narrowing her eyes at the King.

A blow to the side of her head sent her sideways and there was a roar of anger. It took her a moment to realize the anger was not directed towards her and she struggled back to a sitting position, holding a hand to the side of her face. The expression on the King's face was of pure rage and he was shouting at the man who had hit her. She didn't understand why he would react that way; after all, she was the enemy here, but she wasn't about to question it.

The King turned back to her and though he didn't stretch out his hand to offer comfort, he did give her a searching look as if reassuring himself that she was okay.

"I offer you a full pardon of all wrongdoing," he said, speaking so that his voice echoed the length of the hall. "However, I cannot let you return to your people after you have been in these gates. Our secrets must be guarded at all costs."

Rose's heart rose and then sank at his words - she had little to return to in the valley, but the thought of staying here did not fill her heart with joy. 

"There is a condition," he continued and Rose held her breath. "You are to remain here, in my house. My Healer is in need of an apprentice."

It was phrased like a command but the King was watching her closely as he spoke. Rose opened her mouth to protest, what did she know of medicine, but there was an outburst of laughter from the onlookers. She turned back to look, surprised at that reaction until she got a good look at them. They were rolling their eyes and giving each other knowing looks and Rose suddenly knew what was so entertaining. Her face burned with the connotations, but she had no chance to speak.

"Silence!" the King's voice boomed, seeming to shake the very foundations. "I have decreed it and it shall be so."

The crowd pushed each other out of the way in their haste to exit the hall until at length only Rose, the King, and the patrolmen were left. There was complete silence for a moment and then a door directly behind the throne creaked open. The woman who entered the room was bowed with age and large wings stood above her shoulders. She moved slowly until she stood beside the King. 

"I found you an assistant," the King said almost reverently and even the patrolmen looked at the woman with respect.

"So I've heard," the woman said, turning her gaze on Rose. "What is your name?"

"Rose," she replied, awed by the appearance of the woman.

"I'm Martha and I am the only Healer left inside the walls," the woman's voice creaked. "Stand up Rose, you are now a member of this court."

Rose got to her feet somewhat awkwardly, unsure how to respond to this turn of events. The King nodded at her dismissively before turning back to the patrolmen and beginning to speak of other matters.

Martha smiled at Rose before beckoning her forward, the movement revealing a hand so gnarled it nearly resembled a claw. "Come Rose, let's find you a place to sleep. I know you've been awake for a great many hours now."

Rose followed after Martha closely as the two exited the great hall and began to wind their way through the palace. Martha didn't speak except to occasionally point out important rooms they passed and Rose could think of nothing to say at all. At length they reached a door that led to a suite of rooms. It was obviously the chambers of a Healer, with various herbs, implements, and concoctions scattered about.

"Your room will be up there," Martha pointed to a narrow set of stairs leading upwards.

Rose nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to respond verbally. 

"Rose." Martha's voice stopped her before she had taken two steps and Rose looked back. "It isn't as bad as you might think. We take a bit of getting used to, but there are the same sorts of goings on here that happen in the Valley. And the King means well."

Rose nodded again and finished climbing the stairs. The room she entered was small, but well furnished with a bed, small clothes chest, and table. A window set high on the wall brought in a good stream of light and the walls were clean and dry. Rose pulled off her worn shoes and dropped her cloak, pulling back the covers of the bed and crawling beneath them.

Despite everything that had occurred, sleep was not far away and the last thought she had before drifting off was that she finally knew what was so different about the King. He was completely human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I based the Mountain People's citadel like Minas Tirith, just set up a mountain.

The next few days and weeks passed rapidly. Rose hardly had time to sit down, let alone to consider the strange sights of the half-human/half-creature hybrids that populated the city. Martha's hands were too gnarled for her to do much and Rose had to learn how to mix the herbs to create medicines, to set a broken arm or wing, to stitch up jagged wounds with only Martha's steady voice to talk her through it. Martha was an incredibly kind and patient teacher, never raising her voice when Rose's hands shook or when she ruined an entire bath of elixir by letting it burn while she stared out the window.

The first time Martha sent her out to visit a patient on her own, Rose was nervous. The few times she had ventured out with Martha she had heard the derogatory comments people muttered under their breath, though obviously meant to carry. Rose wore the blue and gold cloak of the King over her shoulders though, the purple Fireweed blossoms stitched over her heart, the symbol of the Healer, and it was an automatic pass into every home. 

It didn't take long for Rose to realize that humans were never meant to turn into animals and the process was painful at best, downright excruciating at worst. Many times Rose was summoned to a small home just to bring a soothing draught, a calming medicine, a sleeping potion - anything to ease the pain of a growing tail, of feathers and scales and jagged claws pushing through soft human skin. There was a shame in people's eyes when they realized she was utterly human and she learned to communicate peace with her eyes, to spread her hands and speak gently, the way one would with a wounded animal.

Soon enough word of the apprentice Healer's gentle demeanor and soothing hands spread throughout the community and people no longer glared at her. Indeed she could hardly walk through the marketplace without someone or other tugging at her cloak and asking her to "please, can you just look at this." She learned to carry extra herbs in her basket to distribute to the pressing hands as she traveled from house to house, desperately trying to heal a broken community.

As the weeks gave way to a month and then two, Rose thought about the King more and more. His eyes, ice blue and focused on her with all of their power would haunt the corners of her dreams. She only saw him in her waking hours at a distance, hardly close enough to speak to, let alone to gaze into his eyes. She wanted to ask Martha about the King's humanity, but Martha spoke of the King with a level of devotion that suggested she would not take kindly to prying questions and so Rose left it alone.

Living with the Mountain People could be considered a sort of imprisonment, Rose supposed, but there was so much to see and do that it hardly seemed like it was. Besides, what was there to go back to in the Valley? She was determined to forget her old life as much as she could, though occasionally the ringing sound of slaps on flesh and burning smoke woke her in a cold sweat. In these moments she would crawl to the edge of her bed and sit and stare out of her parapet window to the city spread out below and further, the great forest stretching out and down as far as she could see.

On one such night as she sat slowing her breathing, vainly attempting to rid her brain of images (the shape of a man against the jet black sky, the flash of burning red, grey smoke twisting towards the night) - her attention was arrested by the sight of a man walking in the garden below. She knew him instantly - there was no mistaking his broad shoulders and short-cropped hair, even from a distance. Rose rested her chin in her hands as she watched the King move around the garden, striding at first, long legs practically churning up the ground and then slower until he was barely moving, his path taking him on a meandering route among the flower bushes and herbs of the palace garden. Rose watched him until he turned back towards the castle and disappeared inside and then she lay down and fell asleep almost immediately, her earlier dreams gone and replaced by gently falling snow on a sea of clear blue ice.

As she went through the early morning routine of preparing for the day ahead with Martha, her thoughts kept turning back to the King's midnight excursion and she wondered how often he found himself out there and if his dreams too kept him awake. She was so caught up in her thoughts that when the door to their rooms opened, she was startled to hear the King's voice.

"Martha, I need a stronger version of that sleeping draught, it..." he broke off mid-sentence, eyes widening as he caught sight of Rose.

Martha looked up and smiled. "Sit down, Theta, I'll have it made in a moment."

"I didn't realize, I forgot you had company." the King - Theta, Rose's brain interrupted, started to back up.

"Sit." Martha's voice held iron as she swept one long wing towards the King and the other towards a carved chair. "You haven't been up here in some time and it's time I got a good look at you."

It was clear the King wanted to argue, but there was something in Martha's dark eyes that kept him from doing so. Instead he sank into the chair and turned wary eyes towards Rose. 

Martha's keen eyes missed nothing and she nodded at Rose, "Can you run down and get a bunch of chamomile from the drying chambers? I'll need it to finish this potion."

Rose didn't mention that there was an entire basket of chamomile in the corner of the room - it was a staple of their medicine, and instead nodded, curtseyed awkwardly towards the king and hurried from the room. She kept her footsteps quick as she made her way through the castle, her mind racing as she thought about the brief interactions, Martha's comfortable dealings with the King, his obvious disdain for rules - where were his guards, his servants, the fear Rose had caught in the King's eyes as he had gazed at her. She had come to no conclusions by the time she made it back to the room and she pushed open the heavy wooden door certain the King would be gone again.

He wasn't; instead he was stretched out in the chair like he had no other place to go, arms folded across his chest and in the middle of a sentence, "...and if you think he will leave us well enough alone, you haven't been paying attention. I get new reports every day; there is talk of war." 

Martha tutted as she bustled about the room, accepting the herbs from Rose, and motioning for her to crush them with the mortar and pestle. "Is it as bad as all that really?"

The King hesitated, attention arrested by Rose and then collected himself and continued, "Yes. Worse even, I think. He thinks we have something of his. By winter at the latest we'll need every able-bodied man ready to go, if he doesn't attack us first."

"There aren't many left, Theta," Martha's voice was low, concern etched across every word. 

"I know," the King's words almost hurt to hear, they were so full of pain. "But what other choice do I have?"

Martha turned towards the King, leaving Rose to finish mixing up the sleeping draught alone. Her words were too quiet for Rose to hear and the King responded in the same way. Rose didn't strain to hear, she she had enough experience with life at court to know when to keep her head down, and she only moved towards them when Martha stepped back and finished her sentence in a normal tone.

"It's worth thinking about anyway. Ahh, Rose, here you are." Martha smiled at her and nodded emphatically. "Look, there's your new draught and made by the most talented hands in the kingdom."

Rose stretched the bottle towards the King, her hands only shaking a little. His blue eyes moved from the flask to her eyes and a bolt of shock went through her when those clear blue eyes met hers. She couldn't move, couldn't think - there was so much pain, so much anger, so much emotion there and she could feel it all as clearly as if he was speaking. How long they stayed, eyes locked Rose did not know, but eventually she felt Martha's wings touching her shoulder. 

"Ahh, here sir, " Rose pressed the bottle into the King's hands and waited until she was certain he was holding it before stepping backwards. "Hope that helps you sleep."

"Thank you, Rose." His voice washed over her and she couldn't repress a shudder as it seemed to flow clear through to her toes. It took her another moment to realize he was speaking again. "How are you finding life among the Mountain People?"

"Oh, I love it," Rose exclaimed, smiling at him as she thought of the interesting race she had found herself among. "These are very kind people and Martha is just wonderful. I'm glad to be here."

"Glad to be here?" the King's voice rose incredulously. "Among my people? I thought you Valley lot hated us."

"Suppose some do," Rose forgot entirely about manners as she responded. "But not everyone down there is hard-hearted and cruel. Just like you lot are not scary and dangerous."

"We're very dangerous, Rose. As for scary, have you looked around you?" The King folded his arms and regarded her with one raised eyebrow.

"Is that supposed to sound impressive?" she teased, grinning at him for a moment before returning to his question. "Course I've looked around me. And at first it was scary, sure, but it's easy to judge people by what they look like - everyone does that. It doesn't last long though, people are people wherever you go."

There was a different light in the King's eyes as he stared at her. "And you just do that, just ignore what people look like and get to know them?"

"Not always, I'm human too," Rose chuckled. "But I've learned that people who look charming usually aren't. They're the ones you have to look out for." 

The King looked like he wanted to ask more, could easily sit there and talk to her for the rest of the day, but at that moment there was a knock on the door and a sentry stuck his head in, more leopard than human, and spoke, "Excusing your majesty, but the advance scout you sent is back, sire."

The King sighed and stood. "Be there in a moment, Adric." His gaze was fixed on Rose though, lingering. "We'll talk again," he finally said and then turned towards the door and was gone.

Rose stared after him for a long moment before turning back to Martha. Martha was watching her, her dark eyes probing and Rose looked away, unsure what she was embarrassed about, but embarrassed nonetheless. After a moment Martha nodded slowly and then smiled.

"I may yet live to see it then," she said enigmatically. "Alright, let's finish dividing out the herbs. We've a busy day in front of us."

Rose nodded and set to work, determined to focus on the many people she was going to see and be in the right frame of mind to offer comfort to them. Her mind kept returning to the conversation with the King throughout the day, the conversation running on repeat as she wondered over each word, each individual tone of the King's voice. 

It was three days until Rose saw the King again. She had again been woken by a nightmare, the blazing fire roaring oh so close to her skin, and she shoved the thick covers off of her in desperation. The room felt stifling, she could still hear the crackling flames, and she headed for the door in a panic, determined to feel the cool air on her skin, to know that she was safe.

The sentry at the garden door recognized her instantly and stepped aside and when she finally felt the soft breeze on her cheeks, she doubled over, working to catch her breath. It took her long moments of standing and just breathing in the night air before she was aware of her surroundings and then she jumped as she realized the King was standing directly in front of her, his eyes dark with concern. When she calmed again, he didn't say a word, merely extended his hand and waited for her to take it. Tugging softly, he turned back towards the path and she moved with them, slowly growing aware of the feel of his calloused fingers between hers, his solid presence a protection against the flames. 

It was a few moments before she could truly appreciate the sights around her. The stars were out and there was a slight breeze that sent leaves skittering this way and that, the moon illuminating the narrow path ahead. The smell of jasmine and peppermint was a familiar one and Rose focused on that and worked to stay in the present.

They had taken two turns around the garden before he spoke and then it was just one word, "Nightmares?"

She nodded, still not quite trusting her voice.

"Know the feeling, me. Have a few of my own."

"There was a fire," she started and then stopped, unsure of what to tell him. 

He squeezed her hand and she took a deep breath. "I thought I was going to die, but I found a way out. I can still hear the flames when I sleep. It feels like I'm still trapped there sometimes."

"Facing the past is like fighting the devil itself," he said, voice pitched low. 

"Better to fight with company though," she smiled slightly, bumping his shoulder with her own. 

"Yeah," his voice is glad. 

They continued walking in silence for a few more moments and when the King moved towards a bench, Rose stayed with him, sinking down on the cold stone with a sigh. 

"It's almost winter," the King surprised her when he spoke. 

Rose nodded, she had seen the falling leaves and once or twice had come out in the mornings to find frost clinging to the leaves. The air at the moment was almost warm though and it was hard to picture heavy snows. 

The King took a deep breath before he spoke again, "Things'll be different in the winter. Harder here. Do you still want to stay?"

Rose turned to stare at him in shock, suddenly aware of their still clasped hands. "Course I do, I love it here. I wasn't joking when I said that, you know." 

"This is the fiftieth winter," he continued, almost as if he hadn't heard her. "Our time is almost up. It would be better for you if you weren't here."

"Time for what? What are you talking about, your majesty?" Rose's voice shook, he sounded so scared, but almost resigned.

"Theta," he corrected absently. "Name's Theta, last of the Kings of the Mountain." 

"What do you mean last?" Rose pulled his hand into her lap and covered it with her other hand. "Tell me what you're talking about."

He stared down at her as if seeing her for the first time all over again and then shrugged. "I was young and reckless and there was a curse. It affected my people and not me, well, cursed me by cursing my people. And each year it grows worse, each year that passes without finding the cure the people get a little more like animals, a little less human." He paused, staring off into the distance for awhile before recollecting himself. "We're alone up here, Rose. And in a few years there will be no going back. It's a war against time itself and we're losing. I'm losing."

"What do you have to do to break it?" Rose asked, interrupting just a little.

"She didn't say really. Just that I would know it when I saw it." His lip curled as he spoke, memories of long-past events streaming through his eyes. "Wish I could go back and change it but wishing is useless. Anyway, if you stay with us long enough the curse - it'll affect you too. You should go."

He loosened his grip on her hand and made to let go, but she refused to let go. 

"What did I just say, Theta?" she asked, daring to use his name for the first time. "It's always better with two and I'm not leaving." 

He smiled then, a quirk of his lips that was there and gone. "Rose."

~~~

When she woke the next morning Rose smiled, memories of the late night in the garden rushing back through her mind. They had taken another turn or two around the garden and the King - Theta - had kept hold of her hand until they had almost reached the door. He didn't say anything before she disappeared inside, only stared at her like she was the answer to something he didn't know how to ask.

Martha didn't comment on her jovial mood and Rose offered no explanations, but the older woman did smile at her fondly before sending her off for the day, laden down with baskets of herbs and potions.

It wasn't hard to find the empathy she needed to bring comfort to each patient, but it was still a relief when she finished with the last visit and started the climb back through the city, the sun's last rays warming her cheek as she moved. She wanted to see the King again and she was certain that somehow or other he would find a way to make sure their paths crossed. Her heart filled with joy, Rose was nearly back to the palace when the sound of swift approaching hoofbeats arrested her attention and she ducked back towards the shelter of an overhanging building to get out of the way.

In a moment she could see the patrolmen, their ranks tighter than ever, their horses covered in sweat as they advanced upwards. In the center of the lot she could see a group of newcomers, their pale skin making them distinctive. She could feel a cold finger of dread in the pit of her belly as she recognized the seal on their cloaks. He had found her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be forewarned, Rose goes into more details about her past abuse and the fire.
> 
> References to Harry Potter are intentional.

Rose stood frozen in indecision as she watched the patrolmen make their way past her, her back pressed to the coarse stone wall behind her, her face hidden in shadow. A big part of her was screaming at her to run, to bolt down the path and out the citadel gates. But where could she go? If his long arm could reach her here, in the safest kingdom in Gallifrey, then where could she possible hope to hide on her own? She wasn't entirely sure if the King would protect her, but she knew she had no other choice.

Pulling her hood over her face Rose melted backwards into the shadows, her feet skimming over the pavement as she darted through twisting alleys and back streets in her desperation to reach the castle first. She was breathing hard by the time she reached the garden entrance, nodding to the sentry that stood there and darted up the winding stairs to Martha and the Healer's Rooms. 

"Martha," she panted, hardly stopping to breathe, "I'm in trouble."

"Rose?" the King's voice sounded from behind her and Rose whirled around. His eyes were dark with concern, his searching look focused over her shoulder as if the very hounds of hell were behind her.

"Oh, your majesty, I'm sorry," Rose stuttered, the desire to flee filling her mind again as she backed towards the door.

"No, Rose, don't go," Martha intervened, her wings reaching out to brush her cheek. "Come in and sit, you're safe here."

"No, I'm not," Rose argued, panic making her words stumble across one another. "He can reach me here."

"Who can?" the King demanded at the same moment that Adric stuck his head around the corner.

"Your majesty? The patrolmen are here with an envoy of Stone People to see you." 

At the sound of his words, Rose felt the remaining color drain from her face and she would have collapsed but the King was suddenly there, his arms supporting her. 

"I'll be there in a bit, tell him he can wait," the King snapped, although his hands were gentle as he led Rose to a chair. 

Adric's head withdrew and there was silence for a moment in the room. Rose's chest hurt as she struggled to breathe, her thoughts racing too much to be put into words. She was barely aware of the King kneeling in front of her and taking both of her hands into his own, rubbing them briskly. Eventually she was able to align her breathing with the motion and she forced herself to raise her head to meet his eyes.

"I assume this has something to do with fire?" He raised one eyebrow.

She nodded, still unable to speak. 

"Tell me what they want."

"Me," Rose squeaked out the word. "They want me, Theta."

"For what purpose?" His eyes were dark but she knew somehow that darkness was not directed towards her. 

"I was supposed to marry him," she started the story before she could second-guess herself. "He conquered my town and he wanted me for his prize. It didn't matter what I wanted; he gets what he wants. He took me back with him to the palace, was gonna marry me within a month. But I," she broke off and shuddered.

Theta's hands left hers to reach up and pull her forwards, his hands cupping her shoulders. "What did he do to you Rose?"

"I was too adventurous for him, too opinionated. He didn't like it," Rose pleaded with Theta to understand what she couldn't bring herself to state out loud: the violent temper that dominated her life for long months. "One day I woke up to smoke and flames. Theta, it was everywhere - I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I don't know how I managed to get out of bed, let alone to get to the window. I tried to save him, I really did. I couldn't leave him to die, but it was too late for him - there was nothing I could have done." 

She let out a sob as the memory of that night washed over her anew. The thick smoke that filled the room, burning her nostrils and making her eyes run. She had shaken Jimmy where he lay, but he was unresponsive and much too large for her to carry. She'd left him there, left him to burn as she crawled to the window and somehow broke her way through. The air outside wasn't much better, the red and gold flames already licking up the sides of the building and leaping to the next. She couldn't stay; it was her only opportunity to get away and she took it, making for the hills with nothing but the clothes on her back.

The King's arms tugged her forwards and she collapsed against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. At length she pushed against his chest and he let her go slowly, his hands not going further than her arms. 

"Who is here for you, Rose?" Martha's voice scared her and she jumped. 

"His brother. Adam." Rose twisted to face her friend. "He's King now and he's more vicious than Jimmy. He'll stop at nothing to get me back. He was always jealous of Jimmy, but he was the younger one - there was nothing he could do..." her voice trailed off as she remembered the weeks leading up to the fire.

"What is it?" Theta's words broke into Rose's memory.

"Adam set the fire," Rose said, Adam's face twisted with greed in her mind's eye. "He _was_ jealous of Jimmy and he wanted the kingdom very badly. I would have been collateral damage. But he must have realized I escaped when my body wasn't found. He tracked me here. He knows I could accuse him." 

"We can protect you," Martha said, her wings stroking down the side of Rose's shoulder. "The citadel is unbreachable."

"No," Rose protested. "It isn't fair. I can't make you fight for me."

Theta's growl stopped her. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. You'll stay here with us."

"But..." she started.

"No." His blues eyes flashed. "You wouldn't be protecting us by leaving."

Theta stared at her for a moment longer and then got to his feet, his hands sliding from her shoulders. He turned towards Martha and an understanding look passed between them.

"I'll talk to them, inform them where we stand," he announced. "Rose..."

She waited for him to say something else but a moment later he was gone.

Martha pressed a mug into her hand and Rose drank without thinking or tasting. 

"Martha, you're all in danger because of me."

"That's not true," Martha's voice was astonishingly powerful. "In fact, we're stronger with you here. Theta found you again."

"Found me again?" Rose raised her eyebrow. "I've never been here."

"Do you know who your mother was, Rose?" Martha asked, settling into the rocking chair by the hearth.

"No," Rose answered slowly. "She died when I was small. I was raised by the various women of my village. They never really answered any questions I had about her."

"She was a powerful one, your mother," Martha began, "the most powerful Sorceress Gallifrey has ever seen. She held sway over the Northern realms and no one crossed her without regretting it. She was a Shapeshifter, one of the last of her race, they said. There were shrines built to her and temples dedicated to her especial use. I remember being small and going on journeys to see one of her most famous temples. It was beautiful and from the statues I saw, so was she."

Rose moved to the edge of her seat, eyes fixed on Martha's face. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had never heard any rumor of this, but it fit with a few strange things she remembered from her earliest childhood. 

"Theta's father died when he was young, only a boy of 18, too young to take on the responsibility of ruling such a race as the Mountain People. They are headstrong, my people are, eager for a fight, not afraid of anything and Theta was the most daring of them all. As a boy there was no challenge he would ignore, no summons he could resist. It wasn't courage, not then - he was foolhardy and reckless. After he became King there was no longer anyone to check his actions and he would take men further into the mountains then they had ever gone, on raiding parties over the borders of other kingdoms, on adventures that left them a mere hairsbreadth from death. Oh Rose, if you could have been here then. This kingdom was full of itself, a celebration in the streets every day, festivities far into the night; we were certain our young men and women were the most brave in the whole world." Martha's voice broke as she recounted the memories.

Martha took a steadying breath and went on, "Eventually, of course, they flirted too hard with danger and the world came crashing down. It was early fall, one not much different from this one actually, deceptively warm. There were rumors that Jacqueline had a child, a daughter who could grant wishes to all those who looked upon her and it was a seductive rumor and it took hold of Theta and he could not forget it.

"Against the will of the council, Theta assembled a group of his most trusted men and women and led them on a dangerous path up the mountain, into the very heart of Jacqueline's lair. No one had ever done such a thing and no one should have done so then. It was a long and tumultuous road, fraught with peril and many were lost on the way. When we arrived, yes Rose, I was there - right to the heart of the tip of the mountain, Theta insisted on going in alone.

"We let him because in that moment none of us had courage anymore, no nor any of that foolish bravado which had always marked our choices. We waited on the slope outside of the entrance for five days and nights and the world grew colder and colder and the most dreadful noises emerged from within. Some suggested we turn back, Theta was dead they said, but we convinced them not to - how could we turn back without our leader? On the evening of the fifth day when Theta emerged, he was not the same man who had gone in. He was older, his face lined with guilt, with sadness - he looked as if he had aged a thousand years. Her voice echoed out after him and I'll never forget the voice nor the words she uttered.

"'You shall be cursed for all the days of your life until such a time as you choose. And upon you and all of your people shall the curse be, to crawl on their belly or fly with the wings of morning or to run on all fours like the beasts of the field. It is your choices Theta, last King of the Mountain People, that have led you here and it will be your choices that lead you out.'

"We had to nearly carry him down the mountain, but the closer we got to our citadel the stronger he became and the weaker the rest of us grew. By the time we reached the gates, all of us bore the first marks of animals upon us and Theta was as strong as an ox and as young as a boy again. It has been fifty years since that day, Rose, fifty years none of us thought we would live and you can see the results of that curse on each of our faces. Oh, Theta no longer looks like a boy, but he is nearing 75 and his face is still of a man half that age."

Martha leaned back in her seat, falling silent as her chair creaked back and forth. Rose stared into the flames, her mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour. She could hardly believe the story, but she had seen the evidence of the curse with her own eyes and hadn't she heard rumors of the reason for the curse, though each version was more fanciful than the last. Somehow, as much as she railed against it she knew that at last she had heard the truth. There was only one thing that bothered her.

"How do you know?" she asked at last.

"About you?" Martha guessed at once and smiled tightly at Rose's quick nod. "I saw you. Through the cave entrance as Theta came stumbling out. You were a tiny child, hardly more than two or three with nothing more than tufts of blonde fluff, but there is no mistaking those eyes, Rose. I remember them still."

"You've known all along?" Rose questioned, not at all sure what she wanted the answer to be.

"Yes," Martha answered simply.

"Has he?"

"No," she chuckled. "Theta's powers of observations are not as fine tuned as he supposes them to be."

"What happened to my mother?" Rose wanted to know. "Who is my father?"

"Your father was a trader from across the seas by all reports. That part of the story never changes and I dare say it's true. His ship was blown into Gallifreyan waters by a storm and some say she conjured it and others say it was accident that she was in human form on the docks. Either way it was love for them both." Martha looked at Rose with genuine warmth. "Their love was legendary, but the storms on the mountain rage violently and he was caught in one in his second winter. He didn't survive.

"Your mother was devastated by his loss, but she had you and it tempered her wrath. She shielded you from scrutiny but a single mother is a single mother, powerful Sorceress and Shapeshifter or no. She needed help, especially after Theta brought his raiding party. Some say she disguised herself as an old woman and went down to the Valley to raise her daughter, others say she took her daughter across the waters to her husband's old community, others say they never left the cave at all. What do you say?"

Rose couldn't say anything at all because she had a sudden vision, a memory of being in the air, high above the trees, the wind blowing her hair away from her face. When she looked down she could see shiny scales but she was not afraid. Her childish laughter rang through the morning breeze and was picked up by the birds, repeated a hundred, a thousand times.

She opened her eyes, tears spilling on her cheeks. "She gave up her powers to raise me, didn't she?"

"That's what I believe to be true," Martha said gently. "And your face tells me that I am correct."

"I don't have powers though, Martha!" Rose exclaimed, standing up suddenly and pacing the room. "I can't be Jacqueline's daughter! I just can't."

"No?" Martha asked. "Never had something happen you had no control over? Never lost track of time and found yourself somewhere you weren't expecting? Never grew so angry or felt so much love you changed the elements, changed the very turn of the earth?" 

Rose went silent, staring at Martha as a hundred memories flooded her brain, including getting from the burning palace to the heart of the Mountain Pass with no memory of the journey. 

She sank to the floor in front of Martha's chair. "What do I do? How do I help?"

"You already are," Martha stroked the hair off Rose's forehead with one wing. "Theta just needs to realize who you are. Needs to know it completely. Together the two of you are stronger than you know, but you both need to forgive yourselves."

Rose slowly got to her feet and then stood in indecision for a moment before throwing her arms around Martha's neck. "Thank you for telling me," she said.

Martha's smile was sad. "Do you forgive me?"

"What do I have to forgive you for?" 

"I was there, Rose. If we hadn't gone up there, maybe you never would have left your mother, maybe none of this would have ever happened."

"Martha," Rose said, leaning down until she was certain she had the older woman's full attention. "I forgive you."

Martha smiled, tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

Rose nodded slowly and then more decisively. "I'll see you later, Martha."

She strode towards the door. She knew exactly what she needed to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave a shout-out to one of my favorite fics of all time in this chapter -- 100 points to the person who can tell me which fic it is.

Rose found the King in the throne room. It was the first time she had been back in the Hall since she had first arrived in the citadel and, though it was only two months ago, it felt like another lifetime, especially after the events of the past hour. She entered by the door behind the throne and walked towards it with a sure step, determined not to show fear. More and more eyes turned towards her as she advanced and she kept her head up, her eyes on no one but the King until she stood directly beside the throne. Deliberately placing her hand on the King's right shoulder she faced the crowd with more outward calm than she felt.

She had a half-formed plan in the back of her mind but it was far from complete and she was pretty much winging it right now. Adam's square face was fixed on hers with shock, but Rose forced herself to sweep her gaze right over him as if he didn't matter. And honestly, he really didn't. He was surrounded by his men and a few short hours ago she would have been - and was - petrified of their power, but now - suddenly they were of no more importance than the flies buzzing by the windows. The low hum of voices died out and soon every eye on the court was upon her, including the King's.

She looked down at his face, his daft face which seemed so dear to her as she gazed at him, his blue eyes wide with shock, with fear, with the beginning of knowledge at their very depths.

"Rose..." he started, but she suddenly knew the answer.

Without hesitating she bent her head and pressed her lips to his. The moment she did she felt a shock go through her system as if lightning had struck her. She could feel his hands come up to rest on her shoulders and then her face and she knew he was questioning this and finding his own answers. As soon as his lips moved against hers she knew she couldn't pull back even if she had wanted to. It felt as if they were connected by more than just their lips - the planets spun around them, the world shifted and shifted again and still they stayed where they were, joined together and lost in a galaxy of their own creation. It could have been moments or days or hours later when she felt rather than heard a crack in the air and it knocked her sideways, her hold on Theta breaking as she fell.

When she came to, it was to the sight of Theta's face bent towards her, concern etched across his features. Gradually she became aware that she was lying on the ground, her head cradled on his lap and there was a loud buzz of conversation around them. A moment later an unfamiliar face appeared in her vision, the woman's eyes dark with concern and then relief at finding Rose's eyes open.

"Welcome back Rose," the new voice spoke and Rose realized with a start that it was Martha, but a completely human Martha, without feathers, without her ebony wings. 

She struggled upwards and looked around her, blinking her eyes against the onslaught of images that assaulted her. She could feel the earth swaying and she felt Theta's hand come out to support her.

"What happened?" she managed to ask through a dry mouth. 

"You did, you precious girl," Theta answered at once. "You broke the curse."

"How?" Rose turned to look at him and found herself caught by the love in his eyes. But there was something else there too and it worried her.

"I, I don't know," he started, but a cough from Martha stopped him short.

"You do know, Theta," she said quietly. "And so do you Rose."

Rose nodded memories of power suddenly flooding through her mind. Raising her hands she pressed them to the sides of Theta's treasured face. "I forgive you, my King. I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you."

She could feel him struggle against her touch, his eyes darting as he shifted restlessly against her grip, but she refused to allow him to pull away. She waited - waited while he stammered apologies and other words of self-blame, waited while he looked in every direction but at her, waited until he stilled beneath her hands and finally, finally looked up and met her eyes with his clear blue ones. 

"I forgive you," she said again and leaned forward to capture his lips once more.

This time there was more passion, less feel of worlds passing into and out of existence, but more of a physical desperation in the movement of their lips against one another. She pulled back too soon, smiling at his sigh of loss.

"Where is King of the Stone People?" she asked.

"In the dungeons where he belongs," Theta said, too much bitterness lining his words. "Him and all of his people."

"No," Rose said, hardly daring to believe what she was saying. Up until the words left her mouth she had wanted him in a dungeon, locked in a pit for all eternity. And somehow she knew that flooding in her veins was the power to do so, but she could also choose to make a different choice. "No, Theta."

"Rose," he started, but she shook her head.

Using his shoulders for leverage, she raised herself to her feet and waited until he scrambled up beside her. 

"Show me?" It was phrased like a request, but she could hear the steel of Jacqueline floating down through the air and out of her mouth.

He extended his hand and laced their fingers together, leading the way through the room and into the hallway beyond and out of the door, nodding at the Sentry. Rose stopped short as soon as they reached the courtyard. There were people everywhere - people who looked like humans. They were scattered about, some holding one another and laughing, others were dancing in circles and singing, still others were kneeling or lying prone on the ground, tears streaming down their faces.

"Theta?" she said wonderingly. She had known when the curse had broken, had felt the power of it, had seen Martha's whole face, but to see it lifted for everyone - to see the effect of the people who had borne the pain, the agony of it for so long - that was something else entirely.

He made no reply, simply held her hand while she looked her fill at the people, the beautiful beautiful human people. Gradually they began to notice her standing there and came towards her, speaking reverent words and thanksgivings. Some dropped to their knees beside her, others wanted to kiss her hand or the hem of her gown. Rose stood it for only a moment before shaking her head.

"No. No!" she said, her voice quiet but carrying like a trumpet across the courtyard. "Don't worship me. I am not a goddess, I am nothing but a woman. I am one of you and I would be treated as such."

She felt Theta squeeze her hand and she turned to look at him.

"You are better than all of us," he said quietly. "You did what we could not. You looked at someone else and you did only what you could to help. That is all you have ever done. We will always worship you in our hearts."

"You say that like I'm going somewhere," she noted, but he didn't reply.

Instead he tugged her through the courtyard and down a brick path off to the side. They didn't speak as they moved, turning into a small door so expertly hidden in the wall she would never have been able to find it on her own and then down a winding stair. The air grew progressively colder as they descended and by the time they reached level ground again, Rose was shaking hard. Theta paused only to swing his own cloak off his shoulders and fasten it around her before snagging a torch from the wall and striding forwards.

There were no guards down here - Rose thought that even if someone could escape, the total blackness behind the pitiful light of flame would make it nearly impossible.

At length they reached an opening in the wall, the air that emanated from it seemed colder still, but it wasn't a physical cold. It seemed like nothing good happened down here and nothing ever would again. From the darkness she eventually made out shapes, huddled under blankets, muttering to themselves.

"These are the Stone People?" Rose questioned, shocked at the sight of men who until recently had been sure of their mission. 

"Yes." The coldness in Theta's voice matched their surroundings and Rose knew what she needed to do.

Using their still joined hands she pulled him backwards up the corridor until she was certain they were out of earshot of the men. 

"Theta," she began. "This isn't who you are."

"It is," he interrupted. "You don't know who I am. I am the last king of the Mountain People. I am the lonely king, the man whose curse destroyed a race."

"No." Rose raised her hand to press against his temple, willing him to open himself up to the truth of what she needed to say. "I do know who you are. I also know who you were. You aren't him anymore. That was the reckless youth who didn't have a north star, the daredevil who scoffed at compasses, the careless wanderer who dared to disturb a sleeping dragon. 

"We all make mistakes when we are young, we all make choices to do things we will later regret. The sign of growing up is not never making mistakes, it's learning from your mistakes; it's forgiving yourself. I've forgiven you, but you must forgive yourself."

"Oh Rose," Theta's voice broke as he leaned against her hand. "I don't know how."

"Then I'll show you," she whispered, "if you'll let me."

She felt rather than saw him nod and a moment later his barriers fell away and Rose was catapulted forward. One moment they were standing in the cold dungeon, the next Rose felt the sun warming her cheeks. She opened her eyes to see they were on a beach and Theta was some distance away from her, crouched down with his eyes tightly shut. She smiled as she made her way over to him and dropped into the sand next to him.

Tugging one hand out from where it was wrapped around his middle, Rose held it loosely in hers, taking her time to examine each finger as she spoke.

"Open your eyes, Theta. Look where we are."

Slowly, oh so slowly, he cracked open one eye and then the other, relaxing his body into the sand. His shoulders were still tense and she kept one eye on the rigid line of his back while she continued.

"We're all broken, Theta. We all have done things we regret. My very birth was the beginning of the end for my mother. She was the greatest Sorceress who ever lived and she gave it up for me. Just to give me a life, a chance at a real life. She really was amazing. I remember her now that I am allowed to really know the world. I remember her holding me, I remember her singing to me and teaching me things. I remember her using the last of her strength to give me one last ride through the clouds." Rose dashed away a few tears at the memories. 

"But Theta?" She waited until he looked at her. "You know what I remember most of all? I remember her regret at her anger. She could have given you words of wisdom that day on the mountain. She could have been your friend, your guide, but she chose revenge instead. She cursed you in anger. She had just lost her mate and you were looking to steal her daughter...shh, I'm not blaming you." She pressed her fingers to his lips to stop the self-hatred she could feel threatening to boil out of him.

"A curse made in anger has effects the speaker has no control over. It rebounded on her: she started losing her power that very day, and on me: I forgot about everything I'd known, all the powers that run in my blood. She had no idea how far reaching her curse would become and she definitely lived long enough to regret it. I was so young, but I remember her telling me about that regret and urging me to not make those same mistakes."

"She was right," Theta's words sounded like he had forced them between his clenched teeth. "I should have stayed at home, learned to be a good king instead of going after as something as pure as you. I didn't deserve you then and I still don't."

Rose smiled, her heart overflowing with love for this broken man and for all that he could be, all that he still would be. "Ahh, Theta."

She moved on impulse, settling herself sideways so that her head could rest against Theta's broad chest and his arm was supporting her. By looking up she could maintain eye contact and physical contact all at the same time. 

"Life isn't about we deserve or about what we can do to earn it. Life is about finding people to help, about fixing the broken things. Everyone, absolutely everyone, can look back on life with regret. They can live in that state, always looking backwards forever. It takes a strong person to start now and move forwards." She shifted until she could regain his gaze. "You are a strong person."

"You're stronger," he countered, but there was a lightness to it and she knew he was being stubborn for stubborn's sake. "Where are we anyway?"

"Hmm? Oh, no idea - we're in your subconscious, not mine," she shrugged.

"My what?" 

"Your subconscious - your race is telepathic, at least they used to be. And, apparently, so is mine."

"I know that," he started, his voice shaking. "But I haven't, I mean, I never...Rose."

She smiled up at him, brushing a tear from his cheek. "I think it's time to go back though. We've got some things to sort out before we can rest."

"But we can come back?" He sounded so unsure and it broke her heart. 

"Anytime you want," she reassured him before reaching up with both hands to press his temples.

A second later they were standing back in the dungeons and Rose gasped as the cold swept back over her. "Okay Theta, we've got to get these people out of here. Help me?"

He followed her back down the passageway and, though it took some doing, they eventually had all the member's of Adam's party to their feet and sleepily making their way back towards the light.

"What is this place?" Rose asked as she half pulled, half led the men up the stone staircase. "Wouldn't they have frozen eventually?"

"No, you can stay here forever. Your body temperatures drop, but never far enough. Your brain basically starts to hibernate," Theta explained. "It's been in our histories forever."

"Well, it's got to go. Nobody's brain ever needs to hibernate," Rose declared as they finally reached the top of the stairs and stood blinking in the sudden sunlight.

It took some time for the men to come round again - time and several cups of strong liquor from the cellar with a pinch of herbs from Martha's stores. While they waited for the men to be able to communicate, Martha and Rose sat together in the corner of the courtyard, talking quietly. Rose shared some of what she had told the King, reassuring Martha once more of her forgiveness and her appreciation for all of the skills Martha had taught her. 

"I'm not going to leave," Rose finished. "I just don't think he believes that."

"He won't, not for some time. He'll have a lot of relapses, times when he grows angry at himself. People don't change overnight," Martha cautioned. "And he's been on his own for a long time."

"He's had you though," Rose smiled at her friend warmly. "You've been a good friend. And I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

They continued talking for a few more minutes until Adric came to let them know that the men were coming to and the King requested they come to the Throne Room.

When they arrived they found the men struggling to their feet and grumbling as they tried to figure out what had happened. Theta stood in front of his throne, surveying the men with a furrowed brow and his face lit up when he saw Rose. He held out one hand to her and she went to him with a smile meant only for him. 

When they stood hand in hand, Rose turned to face the men before her. There was recognition in their faces and fear too. Adam was starting to look defiant and Rose raised a hand and waited for absolute silence.

"You must leave here and never come back," she said, each word ringing with the conviction of the line of strong women before her. "If you do this I will remove your memories of the Cold Place. For each of the days you stay in your own Kingdom, you will be blessed with long life, with children and children's children. However, if you stray outside of those borders you will remember these days and the memory of them will pass down through your House for generations to come. Live a quiet life King Adam of Stone People and may you be blessed in all that you do."

The look on Adam's face was one of stunned disbelief and for long moments after she spoke there was a deafening silence and then the applause started, quietly at first and then gaining in momentum. It was soon joined with cheers, the Mountain People shouting their love of Rose, Rose, Rose. Adam and his men turned slowly towards the exit. The patrolmen held their horses just outside and the entire court pressed outside to see them mount their horses and canter slowly down the winding road and out of the heavy gates.

As they stood in the doorway of the palace, hand-in-hand, Rose felt Theta turn towards her.

"How long are you going to stay with me?" he asked, his voice unsteady with emotion.

Rose turned towards him fully, grabbing hold of his other hand and raising their joined hands to his face. "Forever, my King, forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! If you liked it, don't hesitate to let me know. I love hearing from my readers.  
> There is a potential for an epilogue/addendum if people would be interested in that.


End file.
